


Oh, What a Rain It Would Be!

by zimmer2d



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: F/M, Food Sex, Sundaes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 18:54:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17028141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zimmer2d/pseuds/zimmer2d
Summary: Prompto skipped happily beside you, a grocery bag slung over his arm and kicking at random puddles as the rain fell heavily. “What are you so happy about?” you ask, though you accent the question a giggle at his childlike behavior.“Its Monday!” he says happily. “Know what that means?”





	Oh, What a Rain It Would Be!

Prompto skipped happily beside you, a grocery bag slung over his arm and kicking at random puddles as the rain fell heavily. “What are you so happy about?” you ask, though you accent the question a giggle at his childlike behavior.

“Its Monday!” he says happily. “Know what that means?”

“Tomorrow’s Tuesday?” you offer a sarcastic reply. You know what today is and frankly, you’d been looking forward to it all day. Work had been all kinds of horrible hell, the rolling rain did nothing for your mood (or your edges) and you had just about given up trying to protect it as the umbrella did you no favors. But even in this gloomy weather, Prompto always managed to be that little ray of sunshine you needed.

“Well yeah, but better than that. We get to make…”

“SUNDAAAAAAES!!” You both laugh at yourselves, your excitement for the cavity-inducing treat taking precedence over your foul mood.

Prompto takes your hand and swings it. “If all the raindrops were candy bars and gumdrops…” he sings. Loudly. But you remember the song from your kindergarten days, and since you’re already indulging him…

“Oh, what a rain that would be!” you sing with him.

“Standing outside with my mouth open wide…” he continued. He stops in front of you, smile ready for the next line that you liked to sing together.

“AH AHAHAH AHAHAH AHAH AH AH!”

You stick your tongues out, catching raindrops as they fall, completely giving up on the umbrella. You finish the song with Prompto holding your waist and planting a soft kiss on your cheek. “We’d better hurry before the ice cream melts,” he says.

‘ _Oh, something’s gonna melt…_ ’ you think, but you follow him with a smile anyway.

By the time you’re home, you and Prompto are drenched to the bone. He lets you unwind and shower while he changes into dry clothes and sets up your sundae things. You slip into some comfy clothes, leaving your hair a curly mess. “Let’s see… peanut butter candies, chocolate sauce, pretzel sticks… what’s this babe?” he asks you, looking over a jar of golden something.

“Oh, it’s sea salt caramel!” you tell him. You uncap the jar, smelling the sweetness and saltiness that reminded you of summers at the beach with your family. “It’s so good on ice cream. Here, try it.”  You dip your finger into the jar, tasting it for yourself first. It’s so sticky, you have to lap at your digits a few times to get it all as it dripped through your fingers. But it’s so delicious you don’t notice the look your boyfriend is giving you…

Prompto coats a thin finger in the topping too, examining the viscosity before he tastes it too, his pink tongue flashing between his index and middle finger. Oh sweet Six…

“Oh! That is good!” Prompto agrees. “Think it’ll be too sweet with chocolate mixed in?”

“Maybe,” you shrug as you take the jar from him and set it in front of you on the counter while you decide on your other toppings for your sundae. “Depends on how badly you want to go to to denti– hey!”

Prompto reached for the caramel, swiping a blob of it before smearing it on your neck. Before you can (at least pretend to) protest, his tongue licks away at it, a few sucks and bites to be sure it’s all gone. “Mm… it’s definitely sweeter with chocolate…”

‘ _So now we’re playing games, sunshine_?’ you muse as you take a glob of the confection on your fingers and swipe at his neck too, turning just enough to clean him up with gentle licks with the tip of your tongue. “Pretty good on vanilla too,” you purr in his ear.

As you take up the last little bit, Prompto cranes his neck to follow your tongue back to your mouth, tasting the sweetness there. “How about making better use of these?” he growls, pulling the jar of chocolate syrup towards you as he holds your waist. You feel his excitement rutting into your ass, the stimulation effectively soaking your shorts.

“Mmm… how do you wanna do that?”

Prompto turns you around, then lifts you by your thighs, settling you on an empty space of granite. “Well first,” he smirks, taking your shirt and pulling it over your head, “We don’t need any unnecessary cleaning…” He tosses your t-shirt to the other side of the kitchen, blue eyes blown and face blushing as he stares at your bare breasts.

The longer he stared at you, the more the tent in his sweats began to build. Prompto grabbed the caramel and drizzled it over you, watching it trail slowly down the valley of your breasts. He licks at his lips, a smirk curling on them as his gaze flick up at you. “Mmm… so sweet…” he mutters and dives in.

“Gods, Prompto…” you sigh. He takes his time with you, making sure every part of your chest had been licked clean.  He sucks hard on your nipples, drawing out keens and whimpers that make his cock twitch excitedly against your sex. He pops off, a satisfied hum on his lips as he smirks at you.

“Think I found my new favorite treat…” he says. You find it adorable how he has salted caramel sauce all over his face like a child.

“Got a bit of it on your face, babe,” you say, dragging a finger over the corner of his mouth, then taking your tongue to it, occasionally dipping into his mouth for him to savor the sweetness. You tug on his bottom lip, sucking salaciously on it as a drop of the caramel falls onto the bulge of his pants. “Goodness, Prompto… you’re such a mess…” you purr. You slide off the countertop and press your body to his, your tits against his chest distracting him as you loosen the drawstring of his sweats and push them down, along with his underwear.

His dick springs free, red and weeping seed at the tip. “Ever had Gunslinger Cream and chocolate?” you ask, taking the chocolate syrup, “I’ve never tried it… but I heard it’s delicious.”

Prompto gives you a confused look that turns into a quiet moan as you coat his cock with thick chocolate syrup. Kneeling before him, you fit your lips around him, hollowing your cheeks as you wrap your tongue along his shaft. “Ah, babe… aghn, like that… yeah…” he chants above you. You keep your eyes focused on his, dipping a hand into your sopping wet shorts.

Praises come falling from his lips like a broken song, his still sticky hands make their way into your damp hair to leverage himself to rock his hips into your warm, wet mouth. Once you’d gotten all the chocolate and “cream” you could without him blowing his entire load, you stand to give him a taste. “You taste so good,” you tell him.

“Mm… but you taste so much better…”  he growls. Prompto turns you around to the countertop and bends you over, snatching your shorts down and latching his tongue to your pussy with no warning. “Ah, babe,” you sort of make out as you moan your approval, “You taste so much better than a sundae… fuck…”

You hear the sound of gentle smacks of skin. “Oh, fucking Astrals…” you groan, knowing what he was doing. Your eyes close as you picture your little ball of sunshine jacking himself as he eats away at your clit from behind. The thought alone has you cumming buckets onto his face, tipping the caramel and chocolate onto the counter as you scream his name out, fairly certain your neighbors can hear you from across the street.

Prompto doesn’t waste a single drop of your essence. He lets you come back to Eos, taking off his undershirt and chucking it with yours. Just when you think you’ve collected yourself, Prompto turns you to face him, taking your leg and lining his cock up with your pussy. “Why don’t I fill you up with some more of my cream, babe?” he breathes in your ear, sucking and biting his way down, reaching behind you to cover his hands in caramelly-chocolatey goodness before slathering your neck and tits with it.

“Fuck yes, Prompto…” you moan, doing the same and smearing sticky, sugary sauce over his chest and lips. As you lick along his collarbone, Prompto pushes into you, the satisfaction of finally being filled with his cock buried deep inside you causing you to bite down on his flesh, a rosy bite mark blooming steadily. He takes you on every possible surface of the kitchen: the countertops, the floor, against the fridge, bent over the stove…

“Oh… oh g-gods…” Prompto stutters, his breath hitches and his already flushed face screws up in a wince. He’s so close, and you’ve cum so many times already thanks to him.

You slip him out of your sex and lower yourself to your knees. Prompto watches as you do so, tossing back your curly hair (that really needs to be rewashed after all of Prompto’s gooey-handed hair grabbing), and sticking out your tongue. He gives you a hazy, lust driven look, an animalistic gleam in those blue orbs as he takes a fistful of your hair to steady you as he pumps himself to release. A guttural moan reaches your ears as a salty taste fills your mouth. He grunts out each load until he was spent, a bit of a blush on his freckled face as he watches your throat contract when you swallow.

“Sweet Six…” he smiles, leaning against the fridge. You huddle underneath him, neither of you caring about the uncomfortable gooeyness that most likely has you glued together.

“I’m liking these sundae nights…” you smirk up at him. “Maybe next time, we could try something less… sticky.” Your eyes dart around the filthy kitchen, two sets of caramel/chocolate handprints on everything. You mentally calculate the time it’ll take to clean it all. It seems like the ice age will have started again when you finish.

The two of you pry apart and go shower, opting to share the hot water so as to melt off the mess.

As spoiled as your hair is, you wash it a second time as Prompto dried off. You hum a tune to yourself, the melody stays the same, but the lyrics changed slightly…

“If all the raindrops were Prompto’s salty cum drops, oh, what a rain that would be! Fucking outside, mouth and legs opened wide–”

You don’t get to finish; Prompto steps back in, claiming your lips with a smile. “I’ll give you cum drops,” he groans as he nips at your neck, “If you’ll give me more chocolate.”

“Deal.”


End file.
